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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276870">Agape</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineNiedle/pseuds/PineNiedle'>PineNiedle</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Domestic Blisters [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hannibal (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bathing/Washing, Bottom Hannibal Lecter, Fluff, Gentle Sex, Imagine that, M/M, Married Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Murder Husbands, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Short Chapters, Sick Character, Sickfic, Vomiting, Vulnerable Hannibal Lecter, kind of ooc, since they're pretty nice to each other</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:48:09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,144</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25276870</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineNiedle/pseuds/PineNiedle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wakes to find Hannibal ill. As a blizzard rages outside, the two lovingly reflect on the nature of their marriage.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Domestic Blisters [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873288</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>232</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. In Sickness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Country/region are left purposely vague. Somewhere in Europe probably.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The surreal, lonely blue light of early morning cast over the pair’s bedroom through the large windows facing Will’s side of the bed. He awoke like this every day since they’d settled down there, staring silently through the glass wall at the blurry, horizontal streaks of alternating darks and lights that became tree trunks when he gathered the will to sit up and find his glasses.</p><p>Hannibal and Will’s home was beautiful. It had taken them months for them to find a suitable place to settle down permanently in, but they eventually stumbled across the perfect home: a lonely cabin situated in a mountainous forested region. It had relatively nearby access to a small town for supplies. Hannibal had fulfilled his need for aesthetics by carefully obtaining the best (and most expensive) furnishings for the place, and Will had found the access to rivers and the general seclusion of the cabin to be perfectly ideal. After careful negotiation, the two had even taken in a rescue, some sort of husky mutt from a ranch nearby. Per their agreement, Hannibal had gotten to pick out her name. Ophelia.</p><p>On this particular morning upon waking up, Will found himself colder than usual. As he stared at the snow-sodden branches outside the window, he felt damp. It was common for him to sweat so much during the night that he would wake up shivering, wrapped up in the damp sheets trying to get warm enough so he could fall back asleep, but he had slept surprisingly well and dry last night, so why was he so fucking cold? He sat up and found his glasses, preparing to venture through the frigid morning air to make some coffee and start a fire in the living room, but he stopped when he noticed an anomaly: Hannibal’s position. His husband was turned away from him, clinging the comforter tightly around his body and shivering. Will’s annoyance immediately turned to concern. As much as Hannibal’s way of somehow remaining artistically composed and gracefully corpse-silent in his sleep pissed Will off, seeing him like this sent a pang of worry to his gut.</p><p>“Will?” came a soft voice from the shivering heap of blankets.</p><p>Will hurriedly stood out of bed and moved to Hannibal’s side, crouching down and furrowing his brow as he took in his partner’s appearance. Gray fringe stuck to his damp forehead, and eye bags told Will his husband had been up all night. “Christ,” Will breathed, and he reached a hand up to feel the other’s burning forehead.</p><p>It was pushed away by a hand that then lazily retracted back under the blankets, however, and Hannibal’s face hardened. “Do not bother, Will. I already checked.” His breath smelled of sick, making Will subtly switch from nose to mouth breathing. “There is a list on the kitchen counter,” Hannibal continued, “I wrote it last night. Take it into town, to the drug store, if you would, please.”</p><p>The annoyance came back, and Will let out a huff at his husband’s stupid pride. “So, you woke up last night, got sick, diagnosed yourself, and then went back to bed? Hannibal, you could have just woken me up and told me. I could have helped or at least just...stayed up with you and...Why didn’t you just-“</p><p>“Will, please, go,” the other grumbled, and Will shut up. He let out an exasperated sigh and stood up straight, first pulling on some warm clothes before making his way down the hall to the kitchen, Ophelia rousing from her sleep in the living room and following her father interestedly as her claws <em>click clicked</em> on the stone tile. He found the list on the counter, and upon reading it he saw that the items were preemptively translated from English. <em>How thoughtful,</em> Will mused with a tired grin as he remembered that unexpected gift from Hannibal on their train trip across the border. Tearing off the wrapping paper and holding that language textbook in his hands as that passive bastard looked on with amusement. <em>Yeah. I think we both know which of us is more worldly, Han.</em> Will still hadn’t touched that book out of spite, but it seemed Hannibal was too tired the previous night to teach him a lesson, and he decided to make the trip to the drug store easier on both of them.</p><p>Will picked up the list and his keys and pocketed them in his coat, and he was just about to put on his snow boots and leave when he stopped, glancing at the refrigerator and sighing. <em>Fever. Vomiting. Excessive sweating.</em> Hannibal didn’t tell Will what he had diagnosed himself as having, but Will was unfortunately familiar with the symptoms. So, being the dutiful, loving partner Will was, he brought Hannibal a glass of ice water and a cold compress for his fever before trudging out through the snow with his dog to start the car and drive into town.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>Will returned a while later, shrugging off his coat and stepping out of his snow-packed boots in the mud room as Ophelia sniffed around outside for a spot to do her business in. He had with him the paper bag containing Hannibal’s items and a few essentials he’d picked up should the weather get worse. Their meat supply was more than substantial of course, but it didn’t hurt to bring back a few canned goods, some kerosene, and a few packs of batteries. After unpacking the paper bag by separating its contents into stuff on the list and other, Will brought Hannibal’s items down the hall and into the bedroom.</p><p>He was surprised to find the bed vacant. “Hannibal?” he called softly as he set the few boxes of medicine on the dresser.</p><p>The answer came in the form of retching and coughing echoing out from the bathroom.</p><p>Making a face at the grotesque noises, Will made his way into the bathroom to find Hannibal weakly standing up from a kneeling position in front of the toilet, hand shaking as it grabbed the bathroom counter for balance. His face and bare back were covered in a sheen of sweat. “Will,” he greeted in a raspy voice without looking back at his partner. His tone suggested casualty, as if he wasn’t just puking up his stomach. “I was just about to get in the shower.”</p><p>They’d known each other for so many years, but still, Will found himself in awe whenever he saw Hannibal appear weak. His stormy blue eyes took in the scene, in them flashing a moment of pity, before he moved forward to place a hand on the other’s burning skin. He laid a gentle, soothing hand on Hannibal’s shoulder. “I put the stuff you wanted on the dresser. Why don’t I draw you a bath instead?” Will suggested, eyes glancing momentarily in front of him to look at the mirror’s reflection. Hannibal’s bottom lip was still slick with the former contents of his stomach.</p><p>“Yes,” the rough voice came, and with the go-ahead, Will pulled away from Hannibal to start him a bath.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. The Greatest of These</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Will begins to recall instances Hannibal’s love. Hannibal soothes him with a lecture on the Greek meanings of the word.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Agape is pronounced ah-GAH-pay, for all you verbal readers.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>”Is Hannibal...in love with me?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Could he daily feel a stab of hunger for you and find nourishment at the very sight of you? Yes... But do you ache for him?”</i>
</p><p>Will cradled the steaming cup of coffee, letting his hands, still a bit cold from the trip into town, absorb its heat. He was sat on the closed toilet lid, eyes glazed over, mind elsewhere. </p><p>
  <i> “Christ, Hannibal. How much did this cost?” Will knew he wouldn’t get an answer, but it was all he could think of to say as he held that navy blue velvet box and gazed at the ring inside. “You didn’t...I mean...” </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Hannibal leaned forward in his chair so that they were mere feet apart, lips pulled tight in a prideful grin as he watched the other give up on words and decide to slip on the engraved golden ring. He was amused of course by Will’s surprise, by his flustered reaction. “We are partners, Will,” he purred as he took Will’s hand, his own matching ring adorning his slender ring finger. “Now tied together with precious metals. These rings...” His voice became lower. “They mark our becoming.”</i>
</p><p>Will blinked, coming back to his body and taking a sip of his coffee. </p><p>“Where were you?” came the familiar voice, and Will turned his attention to Hannibal. He was mostly submerged in the fragrant water, cloudy with bath salts, body visible only above his collarbone and head resting on a rolled-up towel. </p><p>Will had assumed he was sleeping. “With you,” he answered honestly, eyes fixated on the milky froth swirling in his coffee mug. </p><p>Hannibal made a content noise and closed his eyes again. “...Where were we?” </p><p>“Paris,” Will responded, voice distant. Instantaneous flashes of memories flooded his mind, most of them fervid, passionate, and lewd. “Our second night there. After coming from Saint-Malo in June.” </p><p>Hannibal knew that night well. He often returned to that hotel room when he was feeling nostalgic, having made a special place for it in his memory palace. There, the two were joined, in metal and in flesh. </p><p>He seemed to consider his next words very carefully, before smiling and uttering a single word. <i>”Agape.”</i></p><p>Will tuned to his husband and furrowed his brow. “What?” </p><p>Hannibal licked his chapped lips and spoke, voice rough from his sore throat. “There are several words in Greek for <i>love.</i> Each have their own distinct meanings. <i>Philautia,</i> love of self. Acceptance and pride. <i>Storge,</i> used for the natural empathetic love between family members. Familiarity. Comfort. <i>Philia,</i> love between close friends. Fraternal and virtuous... Then there are <i>eros</i> and <i>agape.</i> <i>Eros</i> is intimate. Sexual. But it also takes into account pure love for another’s beauty, be it their appearance, their voice, their scent... It treats the subject as a work of art. Something to behold.” There was a pause. “And finally, above all...” Hannibal trailed off, his lips parting and face growing hard in a silent show of pain. He sat up from his reclined position. </p><p>Will had gone elsewhere listening to Hannibal’s words. He was in a sea of warm, fragrant, cloudy liquid, enveloping his body until only his face remained above water. He listened there, hearing the words clearly despite his ears being submerged. Familiar arms wrapped around him from behind, then, pulling him close to their body. Will and the Other sank slowly, suspended in white, and a gaunt hand moved up to caress his face, its golden ring pressed hard against Will’s flesh. <i>Eros</i>. The word resounded in this space in that soothing, familiar voice. The pause left time for reflection, time for Will to find amusement and flattery in the fact that Hannibal had given an entire lecture simply to tell Will exactly <i>how</i> he loved him. Time for Will to find confusion still in the mention of <i>agape.</i> Time to realize Hannibal hadn’t gotten there yet. Time to realize how long it had been since he heard Hannibal’s voice. </p><p>Will returned to his body with a start, turning his attention to the bath and finding his husband controlling his breathing steadily as he presumably worked through a wave of nausea or pain. Will learned to recognize that body language by now. “Hey,” he mumbled soothingly, quickly setting his coffee mug on the counter and crouching down next to Hannibal. He hesitated, ashamed that he left Hannibal when he was in pain and feeling useless now that he can see it. “Do...do you want to get out?”</p><p>Hannibal closed his eyes and nodded. “Yes.” </p><p>Will nodded back affirmatively, taking one last look at that pained expression before standing up straight. He’d very quickly forgotten about Hannibal’s lecture.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Becoming</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Will reflects upon his marriage and becomes anxious over the prospect of losing his other half.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <i>”No one can be fully aware of another human being unless we love them. By that love, we see potential in our beloved. Through that love, we allow our beloved to see their potential. Expressing that love, our beloved’s potential comes true.”</i>
</p><p>The world outside their cabin was a flurry of wind and snow. Will stood by the window and stared out at the all-encompassing white, feeling the blizzard’s icy touch seep through the glass to caress his skin. </p><p>He remembered their first time officially setting out to execute a hunt. Some Spaniard  staying at the same hotel had given them an odd look in the elevator as if he recognized them, and Will decided in a somewhat paranoid state that he needed to be silenced. Hannibal had taken the opportunity to teach Will surgical techniques then, wrapping his strong arms around the empath and guiding his hand to slice out what would later become their dinner. They left him lying in bed in a gruesome scene just artistically composed enough for it to be recognized as Hannibal’s work, and then proceeded to make paella valenciana with his flesh. </p><p>Will had kissed him that night. Hannibal, blood and viscera still covering his arms up to his elbows, was clutching onto Will, pinning him against the bedroom door and muttering reassurances as the younger man stared down at the gore covering his own hands in disbelief. Will glanced up at Hannibal, then grabbed his mentor’s face and smashed their lips together, finding it the only way to ground himself in that moment. A sort of a <i>thank you,</i> in a way. And from that moment on, neither of them had to hold back when showing physical, intimate affection. Will let Hannibal openly hunger for him, and Hannibal gladly took the chance to savor every touch, smell, and taste.</p><p>Things had changed since then, but they had also stayed the same. Hunting was led by Hannibal and became an act solely done as a necessity. There were no grand displays of flesh and bone, only quiet organ removal and body disposal. Will knew a shift would come, however, when he would usurp the role as the Chesapeake Ripper and hunt alone. Jack Crawford, if he was even still alive, would receive new cases as artistic installations appeared all over the globe displaying every calling card favored by the escaped Hannibal Lecter. The lines were already blurring, as was Hannibal’s intent from the beginning, and too soon, Will Graham would consume his god and take his place.</p><p>A dull feeling of panic began to well up in his stomach. He wasn’t ready. He wasn’t ready to leave this Eden and be alone. He wasn’t ready to not have his mentor by his side, to not have his embrace to ground him and make him feel so deeply and truly loved. Accepted. Understood. They were one. How could Hannibal just expect him to carry on alone? It was selfish. It was selfish of him to be able to die. </p><p>Will turned away from his thoughts and walked silently to Hannibal’s side of the bed. He was fast asleep there, perfectly still on his back with his head gently inclined from the pillow underneath it. Filled with medicine to help him stay asleep and smelling like sweet, fragrant soaps, Will couldn’t help but see him as a body in a casket. </p><p>He was being foolish. He was aware of that. Hannibal had survived over half a century thus far living his deadly game; he could certainly hold out for another few decades. They had time. This sickness—food poisoning, gastric flu, whatever it was—was hardly lethal. </p><p>They had time. </p><p>Will slid his fingers under the comforter and found Hannibal’s hand. Taking it, he found endless solace in its warmth.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. I Am Assured</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hannibal finishes his lecture.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hannibal spit out what was left in his mouth and glanced over his shoulder. His husband was leaning in the doorway, looking at him as he knelt on a folded towel in front of the toilet. He let out a humored noise before turning back, flushing down his sick, and sitting back against the wall. "I'm starting to think you enjoy seeing me in such a position."</p><p>"You have to admit, it's quite the spectacle." Will stood up straight from his spot in the doorway and went to the sink, taking a washcloth from the cabinet and wetting it with cool water. "A few years ago, I would have made a morning sickness joke, but now that we're past that honeymoon phase, it wouldn't really be funny anymore." He wrung out the cloth and handed it down to Hannibal before lowering himself down to sit with him against the wall.</p><p>Hannibal first cleaned the sweat off his brow, then wiped his mouth. He smirked belatedly at Will's jab. "You are not very clever when you're sleep-deprived."</p><p>Will grinned and shook his head. "No, I'm not." He glanced at the wall clock hanging over the toilet. It was only 3:15. He could sleep in and still get a proper eight hours. With the weather like it was, it wasn't likely they would be doing anything significant that day anyway. </p><p>Hannibal noticed him looking at the time and let out a sigh through his nose. "Not to sound ungrateful. I appreciate every sacrifice you've made for me, Will, great or small."</p><p>Will didn't respond, opting instead to lean over and rest his cheek on his partner's bare shoulder. He closed his eyes when Hannibal then rested his head against his own in a show of affection. The sound of the blizzard raging outside filled the space, as well as the sweet scent of sickness and the subtle perfume of the reed diffuser that sat on the sink counter.</p><p>"<em>Agape,</em>" Will mumbled after a time, and Hannibal made a small, inquisitive noise in response. "You never got to that one. You were talking about <em>eros, </em>the...love for another's beauty, before you stopped."</p><p>"Ah, yes." Hannibal lifted his head off of Will's and thought over his words for a brief moment before speaking, while Will stayed pressed against him and listened. "<em>Agape</em> is the strongest and most pure love, believed by Judeo-Christians to be supremely exemplified in the love their god has for humanity. Secularly, however, it is simplified as <em>willing the good of another. </em>A complete sacrifice of self for the sake of the beloved."</p><p>Will opened his eyes. His brow twitched slightly in thought. "You must have had a reason to bring it up when you did."</p><p>"It was an observation. You had gone elsewhere in your mind while caring for me. I was pleased when you said you were remembering our consummation in Paris, and the thought of that night, so enraptured by our expression of <em>eros,</em> reminded me of a lecture I had heard in my youth. Had I finished explaining my thoughts, I would have ended by saying that we share <em>agape,</em> and that the position we found ourselves in in that moment was a textbook example of it."</p><p>Will thought it over, touched of course that his husband thought of their love in such a wholly pure way. "Sacrifice...for the other's benefit. I'm surprised you didn't cite that while you were not-so-lovingly fostering my becoming."</p><p>The edge of Hannibal's mouth twitched upward into an amused grin. "I alluded to it, but I was afraidof how you would respond to me explicitly describing our relationship as <em>love </em>while you remained so absolutely resentful toward me. Of course, it seems I could never entirely predict you, as you ended up reciprocating that love again and again."</p><p>Will let out a noise in acknowledgement and spoke softly. "You're referring to what, exactly?"</p><p>Hannibal began softly petting Will's curls. "The phone call. The catacombs. Our meeting in front of the <em>Primavera. </em>Our night with the Red Dragon. Our hunt together in Valencia, and our consummation in Paris, to name a few. Even now, when you could be sleeping, you sit up with me and listen to my lectures." He lowered his hand to Will's waist and brought him closer against his side, leaning his head atop the other's once more. "Your love manifests in unclear ways sometimes, but in moments like these...I am assured."</p><p>Will closed his eyes and pressed his lips together, wanting to make a snide remark about how sentimental his husband was being but failing to do so. His mind was already foggy from the lack of sleep and the dread that had formed earlier that day of Hannibal's death; he couldn't find it in him to do anything but melt under the other's words and the feeling of his arm around his waist. They sat there for a bit before Hannibal's nausea had passed. Will stood up, butt numb from sitting on the tile for too long, and turned off all the lights before climbing back into bed. As soon as he could, he wrapped his arms around his husband from behind and hugged him to his chest, lips pressed against his graying hair and nose taking in the sickly sweet scent of his skin. There were no more words exchanged that night, but one word still remained in both of their minds.</p><p>
  <em>Agape.</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Epilogue - And in Health</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A tender expression of <i>eros</i> brings Will once again back to the here and now.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been three days since Will had woken up and found his husband shivering and sweating underneath the blankets. Now, as he ran his hands up his flanks and lovingly kissed the insides of his thighs, Hannibal was much in the same state. However, instead of coming undone at the hands of some foodborne bacteria, it was Will who caused him to keen and shudder underneath his teasing, adoring touch.</p><p><em>“Darling,”</em> Hannibal exhaled as Will ghosted his fingers over his perineum, making the other arch his back in a nonverbal plea for stimulation. <em>“Please…”</em></p><p>A warmth spread in Will’s chest when he heard the term of endearment. He had been teasing Hannibal (and himself, having to refrain from giving up and entering him already while watching him writhe and beg so beautifully) for nearly twenty minutes, and now, with Hannibal thoroughly stretched and his cock slick with precome and saliva, Will decided they’d both earned the release they ached for.</p><p>Will brought himself up to his knees and leaned down, gathering Hannibal in his arms, holding him close, and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Will let out a low groan as he slowly pressed himself in, mouth agape and twitching from the sensation. Hannibal inhaled shakily and held onto Will, strong legs wrapped around his waist and arms holding tense around his neck. Will halted when he was all the way inside and gave a chaste kiss to Hannibal's jawline before pulling out and beginning to thrust.</p><p>It was over relatively quickly. In their other, more hedonistic sexual exploits, this would be unideal, but here, in a purely warm and loving embrace, the actual intercourse being short-lived and uninhibited was fitting. Will was limp on top of his other half as the two both regained themselves after their orgasms, panting and lazily clinging to each other. When the sticky, sweaty position became more uncomfortable than soothing, however, he rolled off Hannibal and onto his back.</p><p>Will's gaze stayed on the ceiling while he drifted off in thought. The dark wood crossbeams, the blue glow of moonlight through the windows, the skylight, dark and gray from the snow settled on top that he'd inevitably have to climb up and shovel off. At that exhausting thought, he came back from his thoughts to the present, to the soft, damp sheets underneath him, the sound of Hannibal's breath and the heat of his body, and the gentle draft coming from the air vent on the wall. He was there, present, with his healthy, loving husband and their beautiful, secluded home and their canine daughter Ophelia no doubt sleeping right outside their door. He felt foolish for harping on the future inevitable instead of staying grounded in the here and now, enjoying his happy little family and the safety they'd found in the mountains.</p><p>There was still some hollow part of him, deep in the undisclosed chambers of his heart, that hungered dully. Mind clear of anxiety over Hannibal’s physical well-being, it returned as the centerpiece of his worry. He hated that hollow. How could he still be missing a piece of himself while he laid there next to his other half? What else was there to this wonderful, domestic Garden of Eden? </p><p>Stubbornly, he pushed the thoughts away and listened to the wind outside. </p><p>He was just about to slip into unconsciousness when he felt Hannibal’s head rest on his chest and his body press comfortingly against his side. Will’s arm sleepily moved to wrap around his back and bring him closer while his other hand rested atop Hannibal's on his abdomen.</p><p>Hannibal’s accented, drowsy voice broke the silence. “I love you, my love.”</p><p>All of Hannibal’s Greek words passed through his mind, <em>philia, eros, agape,</em> as he responded, “I love you, too.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you all so much for reading and leaving kudos!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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